


Bewitched

by Eileniessa



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [10]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bewitched! Yennefer, Charmed - Freeform, F/F, Fighting, I Know You're in There, Magic, Spells & Enchantments, Stealthy! Tissaia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26467780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eileniessa/pseuds/Eileniessa
Summary: Fringilla lays a trap for Tissaia.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894447
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Bewitched

**Author's Note:**

> Re-uploaded from ‘Bloody Entertainment’.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the books by Andrzej Sapkowski, the game series by CD Projekt Red and the TV series by Netflix. I do not claim ownership to any of these characters and have written this fan fiction for entertainment, not financial gain.
> 
> Warnings: Spoilers for The Witcher Netflix series 1, episode 7 and 8.

Tissaia knew something was wrong the instant she felt Yennefer reach out to her telepathically and without warning.

It was a dreary morning that suited her bleak mood rather perfectly, not that she let it show on her face, of course, maintaining instead her preferred air of stern indifference. Tissaia had been standing at the back of the greenhouse watching Triss teach some of the young apprentices how to enhance the magical and medicinal properties of a plant while the rain beat down on the glass panes. It was a responsibility that she had thrust on the young sorceress late last night after her patience for Triss’ self-pity and forced isolation had reached its limit. Tissaia knew that Triss’ burn scars, which covered the front of her neck and went down to the top part of her chest stopping just above her breasts, would take a considerable time to heal and that frankly they might never fade completely, and she had been not willing to let Triss hide for centuries waiting for a cure that might not exist.

Triss had started to tear up when Tissaia had first suggested, in a tone that left no room for doubt that she expected Triss to accept, that she took over Tissaia’s lesson. But now, Triss looked perkier than she had in days and there was an entirely inappropriate childish grin spread across her face. She had even undone some of the buttons on her high collared dress so that her clothing no longer looked like it was trying to suffocate her. From her secluded spot, certain that her face was hidden, Tissaia allowed herself a small smile because heaven only knows she needed it.

After observing Triss for several minutes, Tissaia decided that she would be fine on her own and tried to slip out of the greenhouse unnoticed. That was when she realized something was wrong.

_Tissaia, help me, please._

Tissaia gasped and the door handle she had been holding snapped back into place. _Yennefer?_ she said.

She had recognized Yennefer’s presence at once and felt a sense of relief replace her initial surprise at the unexpected intrusion. She had spent every day since their victory at Sodden, which had been five days, trying to find Yennefer without any luck. But her joy was cut short when she noticed Yennefer urging her to open her mind.

Though the request was alarming and went against even the most basic forms of etiquette, Tissaia allowed Yennefer to bypass her many mental defences and their minds became so interconnected that their thoughts and emotions were almost indistinguishable. It was a level of connectedness and intimacy that Tissaia had only ever attempted with her mentor and the former Rectoress during a lesson. She assumed that Yennefer would have a good reason, a very good reason, to share herself in this manner, and she was right.

Tissaia had to brace against the door as Yennefer’s consciousness flooded and overwhelmed every part of her senses, filling her mind. She felt the other woman’s anger and terror so clearly that her hands started to shake, and her heart rate increased. She could also tell that Yennefer’s body was in great pain, and her worry added itself to the cocktail of sensation they were sharing.

W _here are you?_ Tissaia thought.

She received a reply immediately. _I don’t know. A forest, and it’s crawling with Nilfgaardian soldiers. You have to help me. They want to take me to the capital, to the Emperor!_

Tissaia clutched her silver pendant so hard that it carved the symbol of Aretuza into the palm of her hand. _No one is taking you anywhere,_ Tissaia thought. _I will find you, but you need to help me._

_How?_ Yennefer asked.

_Cast a spell that I can trace, a small one. Nilfgaard will miss it, but it will be enough for me._

_Okay._

Yennefer’s thoughts turned to a tree trunk and, judging by the incantation that Tissaia heard and the way her hands tingled, levitated it off the ground.

Then, she felt Yennefer’s heart leap into her throat. _Footsteps. Someone’s coming._

White light flashed in front of Tissaia’s eyes and a stab of pain burst across her head. Yennefer’s presence inside her mind went blank and abruptly disappeared. The sudden loss made Tissaia nauseated. It felt like a part of her had been cut loose and yanked away and the only trace that had been left behind was her ragged breath steaming up the glass door and a lone voice inside her head that suddenly seemed too loud.

Tissaia let go of her pendant and wiped the sweat from her brow. When she had composed herself, and only then, did she turn around. Her students were blatantly staring at her, though they appeared to remember themselves and divert their eyes away nervously when she narrowed her eyes at them.

_You just felt her, Yennefer, didn’t you?_ Triss asked telepathically.

_Yes, I did,_ Tissaia said.

_Is she alright?_

_She will be._

Tissaia clasped her hands in front of her skirt and stepped up to Triss who was worrying her bottom lip.

“Since you have proven yourself an adequate teacher,” Tissaia said, “you will cover my lessons for the next fortnight. Understand?”

Triss nodded but didn’t ask why. She didn’t need to.

“Good,” Tissaia said. “I will check in on you in a few days. Carry on.”

* * *

Practically dressed in a pair of tight blank pants, flat boots, a dark blue cotton shirt, and a black, sleeveless leather tunic with two front straps that covered the top of her chest and most of her waist, Tissaia stepped out of her portal and crossed her arms over her chest. Blinking, she tightened the cords of her cloak and waited for her magically enhanced eyesight to adjust until she saw the forest twenty feet around her as though it were bathed in gentle moonlight.

The night was cold and dark, amplifying the old forest’s terrifying and eerie ambience. It looked like something from her childhood nightmares and shivered at the memory. Trees stood tall and proud all around her, their trunks covered in jagged wooden armour and their tips lost in the thick canopy that cloaked the forest in darkness. Snaking, thick roots had torn much of the ground apart and Tissaia was sure that they had claimed the lives of many careless wanderers who were too distracted to watch where they had been putting their feet. Determined not to be one of those fools, she kept her eyes mostly to the ground as she walked north.

It had taken her most of the day to divine Yennefer’s previous location (Nilfgaard, specifically the Bellevar forest just outside Toussaint), and a good part of the evening and night to recover from the exhaustion it had cost her. Dread crept down Tissaia’s spine with chilling steps at the thought of how long it had taken her to reach the forest and respond to Yennefer’s desperate, terrified plea, and she tried to remind herself that the delay could not be helped. Try being the keyword.

She had to account for every contingency, and that meant assuming Nilfgaard had captured Yennefer and planned for her rescue attempt. If she wanted to be of any use to Yennefer right now, she needed all her strength and cunning. The possibility of capture or death was not an acceptable risks. Such an outcome would strength Nilfgaard’s position immeasurably and topple the Brotherhood and Council which were already teetering. If Tissaia was being honest with herself, and she usually was, this was not a task that she should be undertaking, but no one would be sent in her place and she owed the girl. Yennefer would not be in this position if she had not asked her for help.

Tissaia stopped walking an hour later when she estimated that she was roughly half a mile from where Yennefer had been. She had purposefully not teleported too close in case Nilfgaardian soldiers were waiting there for her. She knelt on the ground, pulled off her leather gloves, and took a piece of thin black cloth from her pocket. It was painted with a series of intricate runes and markings that she had made earlier, and each symbol started to glow when she began casting a spell on the cloth. Magic hummed in her ears and flowed down her arms, through her fingers, and into each fibre of the cloth and every spec of ink she had drawn upon it. She finished the spell and, after the symbols had stopped shining, placed the plain side of the cloth against her closed eyes and tied it securely behind her head.

The enchantment made it feel as though fingers were pressing against her eyes and they started to water. Tissaia blinked to clear them and looked around. She saw a bird roosting in a hollow tree trunk a few metres to her right, its figure illuminated by a mix of red, orange and yellow light that she knew corresponded to its body temperature. The enchantment was working. If anyone was waiting in the forest to ambush her, she would see them.

Satisfied, Tissaia continued walking. The movement made her eyes hurt, as though she were looking into bright light, but she kept going. Her sight would have to adapt on the way. She had already lost too much time, and a little discomfort wasn’t going to do her any lasting harm. After half a mile, she found what she had been looking for.

Her eyes fell upon a fallen log a little way in the distance and she experienced a strange sense of Deja vu that brought to mind Vandarianna’s musings on temporal manipulation. It wasn’t so much that Tissaia recognized where she was, but that she knew or felt that it was the right place in the same way that you can tell you’ve been somewhere before even though you were a child at the time. This was where Yennefer had been when she had contacted her.

Three humanoid figures were splayed out on the ground around the log and, judging by the cool tones that their bodies were giving off, they were dead. Tissaia checked the area around them and, seeing no one hiding in wait, moved closer and inspected the corpses.

Two were lying beside each other at the base of a tree that had a streak of black bark. Burns covered their chests and faces and there was a path of scorched grass that ran from just above their feet towards their heads and up the tree for about a metre. The other body was lying in a pool of blood with a tree branch protruding out of his neck that creaked and swayed in the breeze. Tissaia had to look away. It was a gruesome sight and she imagined that the blow had not killed him outright, leaving him to bleed to death. But her sympathy was limited. As with the other two bodies, he was wearing the colours of Nilfgaard.

Tissaia reached out for the fallen log and sat down. She had been right. Nilfgaard had intercepted Yennefer. They must have caught her when she had been distracted talking to her. What were they doing to her? Could they have been torturing her the whole time? How far had they taken her? Tissaia took a deep breath to fend off her rising panic. Or, she thought, Yennefer might have escaped. Either way, she needed to pick up the pace. The thought of Yennefer falling into Nilfgaardian hands made her insides tremble.

When her breathing had steadied, Tissaia let her presence spread outwards and searched for the edge of Yennefer’s consciousness, but she could not find it. Yennefer was either too weak to connect, or she had been cut off from her magic. Neither possibility was appealing in the least. She got up, placed her palm against the burnt part of the tree and searched for a magical trace, pulling it out and holding it in the palm of her hand. She cast a spell and attached her magic to the trace that Yennefer’s spell had left behind and followed it. She walked for another mile and a half until the trail, which had continually weakened, disappeared entirely.

Defeated, Tissaia slumped down with her back to a tree and held her head in her hands. She ached from head to toe and the enchantments affecting her eyes were giving her a terrible headache. She guessed that she had perhaps another two miles left in her at most before it all became too much for her to handle and she would have to head back to Aretuza and carry on tomorrow. But who knows what might happen to Yennefer in the meantime?

Tissaia screamed through gritted teeth and hit her thigh with the palm of her hand. It stung and she welcomed the pain. If she didn’t find Yennefer soon, Nilfgaard certainly would and if they already had her, by tomorrow she would be out of the forest and too deep into enemy territory for Tissaia to save her. It looked like so was going to fail Yennefer again, she thought, and this time, she would probably lose her for good. But it seemed that Yennefer wasn’t ready to be lost.

_Tissaia…_

She looked up with a start and clamped a hand over her mouth as a startled cry slipped out.

_Yennefer, where are you?_ Tissaia asked.

_Close_.

Again, Tissaia felt Yennefer’s urge to deepen their connection and she let her in. For a brief second, she saw flashes of a slope and a stream then Yennefer’s presence dropped from her mind.

Tissaia’s fell to her knees, bent over and retched. When her stomach was empty, she wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her cotton shirt, drained the remaining water from her canteen, and got up. She checked the end of Yennefer’s trail to guess the direction she might have taken and set off at a slow jog.

Fifteen minutes later she heard running water. She looked around and saw a humanoid figure lying on the ground several metres away. She reached out with her presence and touched the edge of Yennefer’s consciousness. Tissaia lunged forwards then froze. This could still be a trap. She gripped the bottom of her shirt to steady her shaking hands and carefully looked around. There was no one else there; it wasn’t an ambush.

She ran forwards and threw herself to the ground beside Yennefer and looked her over. Judging by the layer of mud that coated Yennefer’s tattered dress, she must have been stuck inside the forest or surrounding area since she disappeared from Sodden. There was blood on her hands and spattered across her face, but Tissaia could not see any physical wounds on her and presumed that it must have come from the soldier she had impaled in the neck. Yennefer’s matted hair was thrown across her face like a dirty veil and she was curled up on the ground in a shivering ball looking like a lost, vulnerable child. In all, she was an absolute mess, but she was alive and what's more, she did not look badly injured. Yennefer had been lucky. They both had.

Tissaia reached out to touch her but hesitated. “Yennefer,” she whispered.

No response.

Tentatively, afraid of startling her, she brushed the hair from Yennefer’s face and placed a hand lightly against her cheek. Yennefer, who had her eyes closed, mumbled something unintelligible and her head twitched. It looked as though she was having a nightmare. Tissaia covered Yennefer in her cloak and then gathered the younger woman up in her arms. She winced when the top of Yennefer’s head hit her chin and tightened her grip until she stopped struggling and settled in her arms.

“Tissaia?” Yennefer said, her whispering voice muffled in Tissaia’s chest.

Tissaia squeezed Yennefer’s shoulders. “I’m here.”

Yennefer pressed her cheek against the dip at the base of her throat and Tissaia felt her hot breath against her skin; strong and steady. She smoothed Yennefer’s hair and pulled it out of her face while she kept watch. She flinched when Yennefer pushed her colds hands under the hem of her shirt and warmed them against the skin on her back, but didn’t protest against the invasion. They sat like that for several minutes in comforting silence, their gentle touches and soft caresses speaking volumes.

“We need to leave,” Tissaia said after a few minutes, “it isn’t safe here.”

Reluctantly, Tissaia let her arms drop to her sides and waited for Yennefer to let go. But she didn’t. Instead, Yennefer tightened her grip and held Tissaia’s in a bruising hold that made it difficult for her to breath. She placed her hands on the other woman’s shoulders and pushed back slightly.

“Yennefer, let-“

Tissaia cried out in pain and clutched Yennefer’s body as piercing nails travelled slowly down her back tearing her skin. Instinctively she tried to push Yennefer off, but her nails dug deeper and Tissaia’s arms went slack. She slumped forwards, dropping her head over the other woman’s shoulder.

That was when Yennefer let go and pulled her hands out from underneath Tissaia’s shirt. For a moment, she wondered if it was over, though she wasn’t quite sure what ‘it’ was, and tried to sit up. But she had barely raised her chin off Yennefer’s shoulder when a hand pressed painfully against her torn skin, pushing her back, while slender fingers sticky with blood, some of it hers, wrapped around the back of her neck. Lips brushed against Tissaia’s ear and an unfamiliar voice spoke to her in an undertone that made her breath catch in her throat. Yennefer was enjoying herself. Her mind had been twisted by dark magic. She was the trap.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this, _Rectoress_ ,” Yennefer said.

Hands spun her around and Tissaia’s face was pushed into the dirt. She clenched her jaw and inhaled sharply through her teeth as Yennefer pressed her knee into the small of her back and pulled one of her arms roughly behind her back, almost pulling it out of its socket. Click. Something cold, hard, and brittle snapped shut around her wrist and the magic she had been channelling into her fingers disappeared. She felt sick. Her connection to chaos has been shut off and she was powerless. Dimeritium.

An attempt to throw Yennefer off when she grabbed her other arm earned Tissaia a slap across the back that made her scream and brought tears to her eyes. Behind her, she could hear someone laughing maniacally. It didn’t sound like Yennefer at all.

When Yennefer had finished shackling her arms behind her back, she grabbed Tissaia by the hair, pulled her to her feet and pushed her against a tree. With the leather tunic only offering sparse protection, the impact of her cuts against the jagged bark made her knees buckle and she fell forwards. Yennefer caught her by the neck, pulled her upright and pressed her body against Tissaia’s to force her up against the tree.

She felt something sharp piercing the skin above her hip through the fabric of her shirt. Tissaia opened her mouth to speak and Yennefer’s hand tightened around her neck, suffocating her voice. Then, she raised a hand to Tissaia’s face and pulled up her blindfold. Yennefer smirked.

“I want you to look me in the eye, _Rectoress_ ,” she said, “while I squeeze the life out of you. Just like you looked me in the eye when you brought me for less than a pig. But first,” Yennefer bent closer, and the air from her lungs filled the space between them. “I think I’ll bleed you dry.”

She pressed down on the blade and cut the surface of Tissaia’s skin. She winced, the sound strangled, and bit the inside of her cheek. But she did not back down from the other woman’s hateful stare.

Yennefer snickered. “Is something the matter, _Rectoress_? Can’t catch your breath, or are you too afraid to speak?”

Tissaia was starting to feel faint from the lack of oxygen and her eyes were going into the back of her head. She felt the tip of Yennefer’s blade dig slightly deeper and noticed that she was starting to lean forwards. Yennefer must have noticed too because, despite her threat, she pulled the blade back so that it was just resting against Tissaia’s skin and loosened the grip around her neck. She took several unsteady, desperate breaths before slowing down and inhaling deeply.

Then, Tissaia closed her eyes. “Tarian.”

A flash of white light pierced her eyelids as the keyword activated the dormant spell woven that was woven into her pendant. The magic flung Yennefer backwards and then formed a metre-wide domed shield around her that shimmered in the air like a mirage.

Ignoring Yennefer’s frenzied curses and the way her shield was flickering under a barrage of spells, Tissaia dropped to her knees and brought her mouth to her shoulder. Using her teeth, she grabbed the end of a small stick of putty that was hidden beneath the shoulder strap of her leather tunic and dropped it to the floor. She turned around and bent backwards to pick it up with her hands.

If she could get free of her restraints, Tissaia thought, she could subdue Yennefer and take her to Aretuza and fix her, make her right. Nilfgaard’s dark magic had to be reversible and if there wasn’t a cure then she would find one. Just because it had not been discovered yet didn’t mean that a cure did not exist, they just lacked the knowledge to produce one and she would sort that. She would get Yennefer back. There was no question about it.

After warming the putty up in her hands, she placed it against the thinnest part of the shackle covering her right wrist. It reacted with the metal immediately and the dimeritium started to melt. The restraint started to burn Tissaia’s skin and some of the metal dripped onto her wrist. She couldn’t hold back her cry of pain. After a few seconds, she pulled her right hand free and rubbed it in the dirt to try and wipe off the melted dimeritium and to cool her skin before wrapping it up in her blindfold.

The shield was beginning to crack now and Tissaia realized that Yennefer would be able to break through any second. That meant she didn’t have time to lockpick the remaining shackle. She would have to do this the hard way, then, and subdue Yennefer without magic. It was primitive and it would no doubt be painful for the both of them, and it was not a contingency that she had prepared for, but the only other option would be to run, hide, and remove the shackle in the hope of finding Yennefer again, and she disliked that prospect even more than the first. The waiting game was over, she needed to act here and now to save Yennefer, however difficult it may be.

Watching the tell-tale flicker of her domed shield, Tissaia crouched down, pulled out her dagger, and waited for an opening. It came in the form of a crack that streaked from the point of impact a few inches from Tissaia’s face across the entire shield like a fork of lightning. She guessed that the next spell Yennefer cast would shatter the spell, and she was right. The sound of glass shattering into a thousand pieces resonated around her and made her ears ring. The spell collapsed inwards and the broken fragments of the shield fizzled out like tiny, golden firecrackers with a whizz and a flash. But Tissaia hardly noticed because as soon as Yennefer had unleashed the devastating blow to her shield, she had pounced.

She went low and rammed her shoulder into a spot just above Yennefer’s hips so that when they went down, Yennefer broke her fall and she landed on top of her. Immediately, she tried to bring the hilt of her dagger down on Yennefer’s forehead to knock her out and end things quickly, but she received a punch to the gut that knocked the wind right out of her and made her lose her balance. Yennefer seized her opportunity and grabbed Tissaia’s upper arms, pulling her forwards and over her head. Her legs went up in the air and she rolled over and landed on her back with the top of her head a few inches from Yennefer’s.

She got to her feet and spun on her heels in time to see Yennefer launch a kick at her, but not in time to dodge it. Yennefer’s foot connected with her stomach and she was sent flying backwards and onto the ground again. She cursed inwardly. Though her short stature had not troubled her for centuries, it was starting to get on her nerves again. She didn’t like being tossed around like a little rag-doll, and she expected that Yennefer knew that because, rather than striking her while she was down, Yennefer waited until she had gotten to her feet before knocking them out from under her with a sweep of her leg.

Clutching her weapon in her left hand, Tissaia landed on her front and gasped for air. Before she could do it herself, Yennefer grabbed her by the right strap of her leather tunic and started pulling her up. Flipping the dagger so that she was holding it upside down, she reached under her and slashed Yennefer’s thigh. Yennefer screamed and cursed, and, more importantly, dropped her. With her unarmed hand, Tissaia grabbed a fallen tree branch, sat up and swung it into the back of Yennefer’s knees. She fell on her back, cursing more profoundly than before and in a manner that would have made even the most hardened and seasoned sailors blush, and scrambled to her feet.

They got up at the same and stared at each other with their legs apart, their weight resting on the balls of their feet, and a dagger in their hand. Tissaia thought she saw Yennefer’s lips twist into a snarl, but then her face was obscured by her arm as she swung her dagger wildly at Tissaia’s head. She ducked it with ease and lunged forwards with her weapon raised. She tried to bring the hilt down on Yennefer’s head, but she caught her by the wrist and used her forward momentum to spin her around and into a tree.

Tissaia hit her left temple against the bark and sharp pain exploded across her head. She stumbled backwards and Yennefer came up behind her, stopping her from falling over by putting her blade to the back of her neck and bending her left arm behind her back and pushing her front against the tree. The bark dug unto her left cheek and pressed against the new cut on her forehead, but it was nothing compared to the pain shooting up her arm from the way Yennefer was twisting it.

“Drop it,” Yennefer said, referring to her dagger.

Tissaia clenched her jaw and gripped her weapon tighter.

“I said drop it!”

Yennefer leant most of her weight against Tissaia’s bent arm and she cried out in pain. A few tears slipped from her eyes and she clawed the bark with her free hand. Yennefer waited for a few seconds and then started to increase the pressure until Tissaia was sure that her arm would break, but, just when she thought it would, Yennefer eased up. Swearing at her, Yennefer removed the blade from the back of her neck and stuck into the tree out of her reach. She wrestled Tissaia’s weapon out of her hand, threw it away, and then pressed hers against Tissaia’s side below the leather. There was silence, save for the sound of their short, sharp breaths.

“What are you waiting for?” Tissaia asked.

Yennefer’s blade lightly brushed her waist through the fabric of her shirt. Her hand was shaking.

Tissaia swallowed. “Stop wasting my time, Yennefer,” she said, her croaking voice surprisingly flat. “Kill me or let me go. While we might live for centuries that is no excuse for your indecision, a mage should always be decisive.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Yennefer said. “I will kill you when I please.”

“But why wait? Foolish girl, you could lose the upper hand.”

Yennefer returned the dagger to the back of her neck and rested her chin on Tissaia’s shoulder.

“Because,” she said, “I want you to know what it feels like to watch someone you trust hold your life and their hands and then throw it away. I trusted you to help me, to get me Aedirn, and you let me down.

“No, it was your blood and ignorance that lost you that seat, not me. I fought for you-”

“Liar!”

Yennefer grabbed Tissaia by the back of her leather tunic and threw her onto the floor. She rolled across the ground a few times before scrambling to her hands and knees and getting knocked onto her back by a kick in her side. Winded and slightly dazed from her head injury, Tissaia did not have the time or the strength to move out of the way when she saw Yennefer pounce at her like a feral cat.

She barely managed to catch Yennefer’s wrist with both hands as she plunged the dagger towards her. Yennefer wrapped her other hand around the hilt and leant her weight on it, overpowering Tissaia. The tip of the blade dug into the bottom of her throat below her Adam’s apple and she could feel its kiss, cold and deadly, moving against her neck as she breathed.

“You don’t care about me, you never have!” Yennefer said.

Tissaia looked Yennefer in the eye. “Would I have come if I didn’t?” she said.

Yennefer’s eyes widened and she opened and closed her mouth then shook her head and screamed deeply from the back of her throat.

“I hate you,” she said.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do, and I’m going to kill you.”

“No, you will not. You cannot,” Tissaia said.

Yennefer’s lips trembled. “I can! Look at what I’ve done to you. I- I can do it!”

A tear rolled down Yennefer’s face. The rage and madness that had tortured her beautiful features were starting to slip away. The magic that held Yennefer captive had weakened and her sadness was pouring through its gaps. Tissaia relaxed her arms slightly and felt the blade pierce her skin. It should have gone a lot deeper, but she noticed that when the blade had started to fall, Yennefer had stopped pressing as hard. She was matching Tissaia. It wasn’t a real struggle, because Yennefer couldn’t bring herself to make the final blow.

“My wounds are all superficial,“ Tissaia said. “You could have broken my arm, stabbed me, but you did not. You have not given me any injuries that cannot be easily fixed.” The tears were falling down Yennefer’s face now and a few splashed against Tissaia’s chest. She smiled. “It’s okay, Yennefer. You’ve hurt me because I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I let you slip away, that I ignored the distance I saw growing between us. I should have done more. I should have done better.”

She let go of Yennefer’s wrists and wiped the tears off her face. She caressed her cheeks and the dagger hung in the space between them, shaking in Yennefer’s hand. After a few seconds, Yennefer seemed to realize that she was not being restrained and pushed the edge of the blade against Tissaia’s throat ready to slit it open. She let out a strangled cry and dropped her head to her chest, breaking eye contact. The blade dug a little deeper.

“Look at me,” Tissaia said. It took a few seconds, but Yennefer complied. Tissaia held her face and continued. “I know that you are in there, somewhere. Fight. Fight it, Yennefer, and come back to me. Please…”

Yennefer sobbed and Tissaia had to hold her head in place to stop her from looking away. She smiled while they stared at each other, gently rubbing her thumb across Yennefer’s cheeks, and catching her tears, until, after an age, Yennefer’s eye bulged. She blinked a few times, looked at Tissaia then at the knife, and gasped. Yennefer shot upright, jerked her hands away from Tissaia and dropped the knife. She looked horrified.

“What have I done?” she said.

Yennefer covered her mouth with her hands and looked down at her with concern, and looked even more worried when Tissaia laughed. She couldn’t help herself; she was just so relieved to have her back. Instead of saying anything, she pulled Yennefer on top of her and wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight and close. She felt Yennefer trembling all over and heard her start to cry anew after she had buried her head in Tissaia’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Yennefer sobbed. “Gods, I’m so, so sorry. I’m-”

“Be still, Yennefer,” Tissaia said, stroking her hair. “Everything is okay, I’m okay. I have you back, and I’m never letting go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bad-Things-Happen-Bingo Prompt for Anonymous on Tumblr: Tissaia and Yennefer - "I know you're in there somewhere. Fight!", The Witcher Netflix.
> 
> If you have enjoyed this piece of work, please consider leaving a comment.


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